My six-year-old boy Jonathan broke a limb of my azalea （杜鹃花） bush and asked me, "Can I take this to school today, mom"？With a wave of my hand, I sent him off. And then I turned my back so he couldn't see the tears in my eyes.
I was in low spirits all day, washing and drying clothes, and thinking how love had disappeared from my life. As hanging up the last of my husband's shirts, I looked at the clock-4：30.Jonathan's class ended at 3：15. It was late and I hurriedly drove to the school.
I was out of breath by the time I knocked on the teacher's door. I peered through the glass. She opened the door and let me in.
"I want to talk to you about Jonathan," she said. I prepared myself for the worst. Nothing would have surprised me. "Did you know Jonathan brought flowers to school today?" she asked. I nodded, thinking about my favorite bush and trying to hide the hurt in my eyes.
"Let me tell you what happened yesterday," the teacher continued. "See that little girl?" I saw a bright-eyed child laugh and point to a colorful picture taped to the wall. "Well, yesterday she was almost crazy. Her mother and father are going through a divorce. She told me she didn't want to live. She wished she could die. I did all I could to comfort her, but it only seemed to make matters worse."
"Today I watched your son walk to that child and hand her some pretty pink flowers, whispering something."
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I knew at once what had happened and felt my heart swell with pride.
In the evening, my husband and I sat in the sitting room, talking about the bush.
